


the art of standing

by cosmicocean



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, THERE'S NOT A LOT OF ANGST THOUGH, i resolved to keep this almost entirely angst free thank you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 10:51:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12769467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicocean/pseuds/cosmicocean
Summary: “They were kissing. Put like that, and you could be forgiven for presuming that this was a normal kiss, all lips and skin and possibly even a little tongue. You'd miss how he smiled, how his eyes glowed. And then, after the kiss was done, how he stood, like a man who had just discovered the art of standing and had figured out how to do it better than anyone else who would ever come along.”-Neil Gaiman, Anansi Boys75ish kiss prompts, eventually.





	1. 1: Good Morning Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally going to post this series once I finished writing all of them, but I think after last night's episode we could use some fluff, tbh.
> 
> Assume these all take place in a verse where everyone is relatively settled and happy and healthy and shit like we were all kind of writing in before season two came out, simply because so far all of these WERE written before season two came out.

The first time Farah drops by Todd’s apartment in the morning after Dirk’s crashed on his couch when the two had been up late working on a case, she says “you seem really awake.”

“I mean, I’m not two Red Bulls and a large espresso awake, but yeah, I’m as awake as I tend to get.”

Farah raises her eyebrows. “Two Red Bulls and a large espresso?”

“Everyone pulled all nighters in college, Farah.”

Farah drops the file she’d brought on Todd’s coffee table. Dirk’s still snoring lightly on the couch, blanket pulled up around him. “I liked to have the Red Bull with chocolate milk as a chaser to try and wash the taste out.”

“Ah, smart.”

“So what’s got you so awake this morning?”

“I’m a morning person.”

Her expression is rife with disbelief. “You?”

“Yes, me. Why is that so surprising?”

“The everything about you?”

Todd opens his mouth to retort. Considers. “Yeah, that’s fair.”   
“You’re a morning person.” Farah shakes her head. “Unbelievable.”

“It’ll be even more unbelievable if you hang around for a couple minutes, cause-“

Dirk makes a “blarrrrrgh” sound and shoves the blanket off him. He makes it to his feet and sways a little where he stands in the sweatpants he always remembers to bring with him from his apartment and the tee shirt of Todd’s to replace the one he always forgets. Todd determinedly stares at the back of his head rather than the patch of his skin revealed by his shirt rucking up a little in the night, something he’s learned to do by this point. He lurches around and manages to walk right into the wall ahead of him.

“Dirk isn’t,” Todd finishes with a grin as Dirk rubs his forehead and stares at the wall like he’s confused about what he ever did to it to deserve this.

 

Todd’s learned to have coffee ready when Dirk wakes up after he’s slept over, something that happens more and more frequently. Todd thinks that he likes having someone else in the place while he’s asleep, his apartment upstairs very quiet.

Dirk’s never very in control of his mouth or his movements when he wakes up in the morning, which leads to things like him patting the top of Todd’s head when Todd says “coffee’s on the counter” as always or sort of poking at his face. He always says something to Todd when he staggers in. Sometimes it’s positively nonsensical and something from a dream he had, like “the turnips are going to outgrow the begonias at this rate” or “I don’t understand why the coatrack is upside down” (the most terrifying of which safely being “they wanted me to tell you before I woke up that they're hiding behind your shower curtain”, which had led to Todd bringing an umbrella into the bathroom with him before his morning shower and warily poking at the curtain just in case). Sometimes it’s nice things, like “your hair looks nice this morning” or “the blue in your shirt brings out your eyes” before making his way to the coffee properly, which always makes the tips of Todd’s ears go red.

Todd doesn’t _need_ to always be in the kitchen, back leaning against the doorway, when Dirk wakes up, but he doesn’t want to move too much, because what if he wakes Dirk up?

(what if he’s in another room when Dirk teeters into the room and makes it to his coffee without saying any of these things to him, silly or wonderful?)

 

Todd’s just finished checking the headlines on his phone and put it on the counter when Dirk wakes up earlier than usual, so Todd’s standing in the middle of the kitchen and the coffee’s not quite ready. He stumbles up to Todd and blinks at him a little owlishly, like he’s surprised that he’s not where he usually is. Just-woken-up Dirk has a hard time comprehending change.

“Coffee’s on the stove, it’ll be ready soon,” Todd tells him.

“You’re beautiful,” Dirk murmurs, putting a hand on the side of his face and pressing their lips together. Todd stands frozen in shock. Dirk pulls back and smiles faintly before he blinks a couple more times and the expression shifts to slowly dawning shock and horror as he clearly gets very awake very quickly.

“Oh no. Oh god. Shit. Fuck. I’m so sorry, I-“

Todd straightens and stretches just enough that he can put his hand on the back of Dirk’s neck and kiss him. After a second, Dirk’s mouth starts moving against his in return, a hand tentatively resting on his waist.

When Todd slowly slides their lips apart, he doesn’t go far, and he doesn’t move his hand from the back of Dirk’s neck. His hand stays on Todd’s waist. He keeps his eyes closed for a few seconds, and when he opens them, Dirk’s watching him, looking both surprised and pleased.

“Good morning,” he whispers. Dirk smiles again and rests their foreheads together.

“Good morning.”

 

A couple months later, Todd’s putting the mug that had just held his coffee and he’d washed in the dish rack when Dirk appears at his shoulder, coming in from their bed.

“Coffee’s on the counter next to the microwave,” he says, turning to face him.

“I think the Prius is talking about me behind my back.”

“I’m sure the Prius likes you just fine,” Todd tells him, and kisses him lightly.


	2. True Love's Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Dirk is knocked out, everyone thinks Todd's being dumb, and Todd thinks this is all Ridiculous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was written way before season two started, so Todd is way grumpier about the concept of magic than he seems to be in actual canon.

“Is he okay?” is the first question Amanda asks when she and Farah barrel through the door. The second is “why is he in your bed?”

“I thought he’d be more comfortable,” Todd mutters, trying not to look too long at Dirk’s very still face. He looks like he’s sleeping, sure, but he’s still in the clothes he was wearing when they were poking around the stuff that their last perp had been carrying around with him, and Todd can still see far too clearly how immediately his face shut down when he opened the tiny box thing.

“Can he feel it being more comfortable?”

“I don’t know.”

Farah sits next to Dirk on the bed and checks his pulse. “It’s steady. He’s alive. Seems just like he’s sleeping.”

“What happened?”

“We were going through some of the things left behind by the last guy we were looking for and Dirk found this little wooden box and he opened it, and this weird blue smoke came out of it and Dirk breathed it in and then he just…” Todd trails off. They’d been sitting on Todd’s floor peering at all of the guy’s weird shit, which meant when Dirk’s face slackened and he slumped over, Todd could at least catch him, even as all his shaking and shouting hadn’t done anything to wake him up. “That just happened.”

“Do you still have the box?”

Todd points to his nightstand, where he’d put it next to his phone after he’d called the two of them. Amanda picks the tiny worn down wooden box up. 

“Do you think everything emptied out when he did the thing?” she asks. Todd shrugs.

“It was open on the floor while I was trying to wake him up and when I hauled him onto the bed so I’d assume so but I still wouldn’t-“ Amanda clicks it open. “Or do, yeah, I guess.”

“Yeah, there’s nothing left in here.”

“You’re going to give me a heart attack.” Farah gently puts Dirk’s hand back on his chest. “Can we track this person down, ask them what’s going on?”

“He’s dead.” At the same time Todd’s trying not to look at Dirk’s face, he’s having a hard time looking away. “So probably not.”

“Hey, there’s writing at the bottom of this thing.” Amanda squints at the inside of the box. “Really tiny, but it’s there. Farah, do you have a miniature flashlight thing on your keyring?”

“Of course, I’m not an animal.” Farah stands up and shines it on the bottom of the box next to Amanda. “It says ‘the spell will be broken by true love’s kiss’.”

“That’s _incredibly_ stupid.” Todd thinks of the failed magician’s repeated attempts to speak in shitty rhyme and purple prose. “But definitely on brand for him, I guess.” He rubs his forehead. “This is gonna take so much work to figure out how to undo.” There’s already panic low in his throat about if they never figure it out that he’s trying to shove away until Farah and Amanda leave or at least aren’t in the same room as him.

“Dude.” There’s something in Amanda’s tone that makes him look up. Both Farah and Amanda are looking at him with identical raised eyebrow expressions.

“What?”

“Kiss him.”

Todd’s stomach lurches and he feels himself flush. “What? No. No. What?”

“Dude-“

“It’s isn’t possible.”

“Neither should soul swapping and time travel,” Farah points out. “And yet.”

“This isn’t _possible_.” Todd’s voice has a tinge of the hysterical to it. “That’s not how real life _works_. It’s just some, some weird shit that guy rigged up, probably specifically for Dirk cause he was an _asshole_ , and we gotta figure out if it’s gonna kill him or not, and even if it _were_ possible, it wouldn’t, it wouldn’t be me, all right?”

Farah and Amanda are still giving him judgey eyebrows.

“So you’re not even going to try?” Farah asks.

“ _No._ ”

They both sigh. “All right,” Amanda says. “But I think you’re an idiot.”

“That’s fine. I’m fine with that. Can we just… work on getting this figured out, please?”

 

Farah takes the box and promises to send it to friends she knows who can scan it and see what exactly Dirk ingested. Amanda says she’ll call the Rowdy Three and ask them to drop by and see if they’re reading anything weird from Dirk. Todd stays up until one am on Google trying to see if “weird blue knockout smoke shit death” turns up anything useful (spoiler alert: it does not).

When Todd settles into the couch for the night, he winces at the lumps.

“Was it seriously always this bad?” he asks Dirk, who of course still has the bed. “And you just like… never mentioned it all those times you crashed on my couch? If you’d said something, I could have figured out a way to make it better for you.”

Dirk doesn’t say anything, predictably.

 

The Rowdy Three drop by the next day with a gift of a head of cabbage “for when Icarus wakes up”. 

Todd shoves his hands in his pockets. He’s just readjusted the pillow behind Dirk’s head and keeps going back and forth about whether or not he should pull a sheet over him. He doesn’t want him to be too cold, but he doesn’t want to overheat him either. “Can you tell if he’s… okay?”

Martin shrugs. “Seems fine to me.” He looks over his glasses at Todd. “Have you tried kissin’ him?”

Todd narrows his eyes. “Get out of my apartment.”

 

“Fucked up blue smoke that knocks out my best friend because of assholes” also turns up nothing.

“Are you allergic to anything?” Todd asks. “Did he just slam you with something you had a really weird allergic reaction to?”

He’s got to stop asking Dirk questions, he resolves. It carves something hollow out in him whenever Dirk doesn’t answer.

 

“I’m only doing this because I’m worried,” Todd tells him the next day (he’s never been good at resolving things) when Farah calls him and says that her guys couldn’t find anything on what Dirk breathed in as he googles “true love kiss powder”.

This is also unhelpful.

 

An hour later, he tries turning off the Safe Search.

 

“Oh my god, Dirk. _There’s so much porn._ How can there be this much porn? This is your fault somehow.”

 

Todd keeps googling variations on “true love’s kiss” for the next three days. The good news is that Dirk doesn’t seem to be wasting away from lack of food (Todd couldn’t figure out how to get it into him), the only change in his physical appearance the slow appearance of some small facial hair. The bad news is just that, no change.

“So the guy might be telling the truth.” Todd rubs at his forehead, staring at the screen. When he blinks, he thinks he sees search results behind his eyelids.

He leans back in his chair and looks at Dirk, still peaceful. He’s in the loose white Oxford shirt he’d been wearing when he popped into Todd’s apartment, going “hello! Would you like to look at a dead man’s things I stole from the police?”. Todd had uncuffed the sleeves to try and make it more comfortable, rolled them up for him. He hasn’t shifted since Todd lay him on the bed, not even holding loosely onto the blanket he’s on top of.

Todd swallows and goes back to the screen.

 

“I can’t find anything on what you’d be looking for,” Ken tells him over Skype, quality slightly stilted. “Sorry, dude. Is he okay, at least?”

Todd looks over his shoulder, like he’d somehow expect a change. “He seems fine, I guess. He’s been asleep for a week, though. And I have to find his… person thing. How long is that gonna take? How long is he gonna have to be asleep for?” He rubs at his eyes as he turns back to the computer. “God, it’s such a mess.”

“Have you considered…” Ken trails off delicately. Todd gives him a look.

“No.”

Bart pokes her head into frame. There’s some blood on her cheek. “Hey, weird Dirk’s friend.”

“Hi, Bart.”

“Dirk still asleep?”

“Yeah.”

She throws a peanut in her mouth. “Did you plant one on him to see what happens?”

Todd glares. “You get out of my apartment, too.”

“I’m not _in_ your apartment.” Bart gives Ken a look. “Does he know how computers work?” she stage whispers to Ken.

Ken, the traitor, looks amused. “Call if you need any more help.”

“Will do. Thanks, Ken.”

Ken ends the call. Todd leans back in his chair. Rubs at his eyes again and stares at nothing for a moment.

Then he sighs, gets up, and sits next to Dirk’s unconscious form, feet resting on the floor, back just by his knees. It’s the first time he’s sat close to him. Despite everything, he’s reassuringly warm.

“So we have to find your true love. God, this is stupid, I’m blaming you for me having to say those words.” He stretches his back with a wince. “And also my couch is terrible. When you wake up, we’re shopping for a new one. Or I’m shopping for a new one. I feel like you should have input, though, considering how often you sleep on it. Or maybe you’ll sleep on your…” Todd can’t get the words out. They taste sour in his mouth just sitting, and he knows they’d taste worse in his mouth. “Whatever.”

He looks at Dirk’s calm face.

“I don’t even know where to start with you,” he tells him. “You never mentioned anyone at college or on a previous case that you were interested in. You don’t even have Facebook, I can’t even stalk your friends to figure it out. Oh god, is it Thor? If it’s Thor, I’m just, I’m out, okay, I tap out, I’m all set, I don’t need that shit in my life.” He rests his forehead on his hands. “That was a lie. I’m not tapping out if your whatever is Thor.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“It’s not me,” he says finally, still staring at the floor. “It _can’t_ be me, Dirk. It just… it’s not, okay? You are… you. You’re weird, and you’re annoying, but you’re good, and you’re kind, and you’re just always _trying_. And I’m not. I’m like maybe one of those things on a good day, and only by halfish. You should have someone who’s those things, all the time, and that’s not me. No matter how much I… might like that. And it’s obvious that you’re not even… interested in something like that from me anyway. So I’ll try and find who it is for you and I just, I’ll smile, okay, I’ll smile and I’ll try and be happy for you and I’ll pretend everything is fine because you don’t deserve that shit from me, you deserve better than that.”

Todd stands. Stops. Swallows.

“I’m sorry that it’ll take a while. I’ll do my best to make it as quick as possible.” He hesitates before he leans over, brushing his lips over Dirk’s. He pulls back quickly, feeling like a weirdo.

He heads for the kitchen. It’s only about noon, even if he wouldn’t be able to tell thanks to the venetian blinds drawn so only thin strips of golden light are filtering into the apartment. He can justify making more coffee. He starts bustling around with the kettle when he hears a small creak behind him. Assuming something slipped off one of the piles on the table he’s been using as a desk, he turns to see which.

Dirk is on his feet, one hand braced against the wall, looking a little dizzy. Todd yelps, only just managing to hang onto the kettle. Dirk’s eyes flicker over to him, and they stare at each other.

Dirk points at him with the hand not leaning against Todd’s wall.

“I have a very urgent need of your bathroom,” he tells him hoarsely. “And then at some point you and I are going to need to _talk._ ”

He staggers into the bathroom and closes the door. Todd gapes where he was before he puts the kettle down slowly and paces back and forth in front of his apartment door.

Okay, so, he woke up. Could be coincidental. Totally coincidental. The thing had a timer on it or something. And Dirk wants to talk. People talk all the time. A _lot_ of what people do is talking. A lot of what _Dirk_ does is talking. So that’s fine. Should be fine. Super fine.

Why would he want to talk, though? Wouldn’t his first question be about what happened to him? Because he’d just slumped over, he wouldn’t know.

Unless.

Unless he can remember what had been said around him.

Or to him.

Oh god.

Todd sags heavily against the door. Maybe he can bluff. Claim amnesia. People do that, right? Either bluffing or claiming amnesia? Being so close to the door, that’s not a necessary escape plan thing, either. That’s just a thing. A way out. That he happens to be back against. Just in case of, you know. Way out type crises.

Dirk emerges from the bathroom and peers around the corner of the kitchen. On not seeing Todd there, he looks back around to see him against the door. His gaze meets Todd’s and suddenly the way out is feeling a lot more crisis-y than before.

“Listen, I-“ Todd starts as Dirk strides towards him purposefully. He doesn’t get to finish the sentence he'd started and then been unsure how to finish, because suddenly Dirk’s hands are warm on either side of his face and his lips are moving insistently against his. Todd makes a muffled sound of surprise, responding almost automatically, hands going up to rest tentatively against Dirk’s neck. Dirk’s hands slide down to his waist. Todd lets out a noise that isn’t a squeak. His only reaction is to shuffle closer, pressing Todd completely back up against the door.

“It’s not _possible_ ,” Todd pants when Dirk pulls back to breathe. “It’s not _remotely_ possible, this isn’t, this isn’t how the _world_ works, there’s no such thing as, as _spell powder_ or whatever, this is-“ Dirk kisses him again. “This is _insanity_ , and _I’m_ not-“

Dirk huffs frustratedly. “At some point,” he repeats, every few words being punctuated by a quick kiss. “We are going to need to have a _serious discussion_ about your self worth, and your worth to other people, and your worth to _me_ , but _right now_ I would like to try and _make up for time_ that has evidently been _lost_ because you _cannot see what is right in front of your face_ no matter how much _bloody semaphore_ I have been waving in front of it.”

“Oh,” Todd says faintly, feeling a little dazed. He puts one of his hands a little more firmly on Dirk’s neck and moves the other into his hair. “Carry-“ Dirk’s fingers drift a little under his shirt and he shivers. “Carry on, then.”

 

When Amanda comes to visit a couple days later, she eyes Dirk’s neck thoughtfully as he hands her a mug of tea.

“So you went against everyone’s advice to kiss him and skipped straight to biting, huh?” she asks Todd. Todd feels himself flush a brilliant red and glares.

“Nope,” Dirk answers brightly. “But he got there soon enough.”

Todd turns the glare on him. He returns with a sunny smile, one that makes Todd have a hard time of suppressing his own, no matter how hard he tries.


	3. Returned From the Dead Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where buildings come down, and Dirk is irritated at the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO THERE IS A LITTLE BIT OF ANGST IN THIS ONE BUT DON'T WORRY IT ALL TURNS OUT OKAY.

Dirk’s almost out of the building when he realizes. “Ah, stupid, _stupid_ -“ He turns on his heel, but Todd grabs his wrist.

“Whoa, hold on, hold on, where are you going?” The dust from the building shaking around them is landing in his hair, coating it in plaster.

“I forgot the thing, the thing, the evidence thing, it’s right over there, I just need to-“

“ _Dirk, the building is coming down_.”

“Yes, I know, I noticed, the evidence thing is on the ground floor, it’s _just there_ , just give me a minute, go, I’ll be right out.”

“Dirk, let me go with-“

“ _Go_.”

Todd frowns, clearly torn. “Be careful.”

“When am I _not_ careful? Except for all those other times, don’t list those.”

Todd smiles very slightly. He lets go of his wrist and dashes through the door. Dirk bolts to the table where the amethyst pendant was and scowls when he doesn’t see it there.

“Oh, come _on._ ” He looks around the table to see it’s fallen off and landed underneath, the gold chain spilled across the floor. He crawls underneath to grab it and shove it in his pocket, and when he looks up, the ceiling’s falling over the door of the building, and it looks like the rest of it is following quickly.

“Oh,” Dirk says faintly. “Shit.”

Then something crashes down on the table above him, and everything winks out.

 

Buildings, Dirk thinks somewhat dimly, his very first coherent thought upon waking past “ow” and “where” and “dark”, should be heavier than this, logically speaking.

He blinks. He’s face down in debris, and his body aches, but nothing feels like it’s broken. The pressure above him is weighty, but nothing that feels insurmountable. Tentatively, Dirk pushes down on his hands. The rubble above him gives way, and he slowly staggers to his feet.

The place is just scraps around him, whatever the wizard in question that they’re hunting set off having evidently done the trick. Dirk seems to have somehow ended up in a spot where he… wasn’t crushed to death in a terrible fashion. Or impaled, which he supposes could have also been a concern. He’s guessing this is one of those things where he should be thanking the stream of creation for keeping him around to fix whatever this thing they’re dealing with now is.

The next thing Dirk registers is that it’s dark out, which is peculiar, because it was afternoon when the building went away. He must have been out a while. He reaches up to touch the top of his head gingerly. Not sticky, so not bleeding, which is something. Probably some cuts on his face, though.

He looks around a little. No police tape, so probably no one’s been here to check it out yet. Which isn’t surprising: this place is the only building at the end of a very long street. He’s by himself, which also isn’t that surprising, now that he thinks about it. If a building falls on someone, you generally assume they’re dead.

“Damn,” he mutters. “They’re going to be upset.” And Todd’s going to blame himself, probably, because he was the last one to see him and couldn’t persuade him to leave. Todd is hands-down Dirk’s favorite person, and as a result his hands-down least favorite thing is when Todd’s upset. That and gorgonzola.

Dirk looks up at the sky, his traditional mode of discussing things with the universe, which usually just amounts to him telling the universe off.

“I’m not thanking you for my life,” he says. “Especially when you’ve probably just done it so you can keep using me to, I don’t know, clean up your messes or whatever. And _especially_ especially when it seems to be the middle of the bloody night, _and_ I’m going to have to walk quite a way to get to a bus stop, _and_ Todd’s going to be sad. So get bent.”

He gestures rudely upwards and starts walking.

 

Dirk makes it to the bus in what he thinks is probably about twenty minutes, and it’s another twenty back to the Ridgely, so by the time he gets back home, he’s feeling a bit worn out and thinking wistfully of a snack. But he goes to Todd’s door anyway before he goes anywhere else. He _did_ think about maybe showering or tidying himself up a bit first (he’s all smudged with dirt and dust from the rubble), but the important thing is Todd knowing he’s all right. He pounds on the door, leaning against the doorframe slightly.

When it swings open, Todd stares at him. His face looks blotchy, eyes red rimmed and teary, jaw open slightly. Dirk feels slightly guilty, and hoists on as pleasant a smile as he can muster (albeit one that’s a little tired).

“Hello,” he says. “Not dead, as you can see. Just woke up in amongst the debris. Well, I say just, it was about an hour ago, but it took me about an hour to get back here, so cosmically speaking, I think it makes sense.”

Todd’s still gaping. Dirk plows onwards.

“Oh! And I’ve got the pendant!” He pats his pocket, satisfied. “So it wasn’t all for nothing, you see.”

“Mother _fucker_ ,” Todd whispers, and lunges for him. Dirk has sudden flashbacks to Todd doing essentially the same thing right after he had admitted he’d known Farah during the Patrick Spring case, and as his back collides with the wall opposite Todd’s door, he has some concerns that he’s somehow about to be yelled at for all of this. He’s about to mount a hopefully solid defense of Why The Stream Of Creation Is To Blame For This when Todd does not actually start shouting at him, but instead seals their lips together.

Dirk makes a surprised “ _mmpf_ ” sound, and then everything goes a bit blank as far as thoughts outside of sensations goes. Todd’s face is wet. His neck under Dirk’s hand is warm. His hair in between Dirk’s fingers is soft. His hands against Dirk’s chest holding him to the wall (although not really, because this supposes that he’d go anywhere else) are firm but not painful. This is good. And nice. Very good, very nice.

When Dirk actually becomes aware that Todd’s lips aren’t on his anymore, he thinks it might have been a couple seconds since this actually occurred. When he opens his eyes, Todd’s staring at him like he’s a miracle.

“You were dead,” he rasps. “And you were never going to come back.”

“Yes.” Dirk’s voice comes out in a hoarse whisper, his hands tentatively moving to rest on Todd’s waist. It feels like the right thing to do. “I can see how it could seem that way.”

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“For… this.” He presses his hands a little further into Dirk’s chest, but doesn’t move them once he’s illustrated his point, like he can’t bring himself to let go just yet. “We’re not… people who do this. Should have thought it through.”

“We…” Dirk clears his throat. “We could be.”

“Could be what?”

“People who do this.”

Todd’s eyes widen. His face, still a little shuttered and broken, opens up, and to Dirk, the chill of being in the rubble, the walk, the bus, seems to fade away.

“Yeah.” He nods a little. “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay,” Dirk repeats, and then in part because Todd seems so fragile, and in part because he wants to, he hugs him. Todd clings to his jacket still, burying his face in Dirk. Dirk breathes the smell of him in, closes his eyes, and, just faintly, smiles.


	4. I've Missed You Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Todd's brain stops working for just long enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some of that good old "wrote about the breakout before the breakout" shit, folks.

It's been six months. 

Six months since Todd's seen Dirk, his yellow jacket thrown over the Mexican Funeral shirt, leaning in close to try and persuade him that he could feel the call of the universe. It's a pleasant enough image to be left with, him happy and whole and well, but thinking over it since has left the image slightly tainted with the brush of knowing that wherever he is, wherever Blackwing's holding him, he certainly doesn't look like that anymore.

It's been six months that Todd's been thinking this over, what Dirk would look like now, how he's going to be handling things, and he keeps trying to be optimistic but the worst case scenarios won't leave him alone, the ones where Dirk is dying, the ones where they find him and he's barely hanging on, or the ones where he's dead and thought they weren't ever coming for him. That little voice in his brain whispering that his new image of Dirk will be his last one, bright and hopeful, will be replaced by him pale and sickly, maybe him sticky with blood, and that's the last picture he'll ever have of him.

So when they finally get into Blackwing, and Todd's running through pale white corridors against the sound of sirens and guards and subjects thundering by trying to find them, and he _finally_ sees Dirk, hair shorter and face paler, when his eyes widen in shock and he says "Todd?" like he's baffled but delighted to see him, no blood, no death, no dying, something _good_?

Todd's brain shorts out a little. 

Which is why he drops the baseball bat he'd broken in with, grabs Dirk by the front of his jumpsuit and hauls him into a kiss, eyes shutting as he slams their mouths together. Dirk makes a muffled sound of surprise and flails a bit. For a second, he leans against Todd enough that he thinks they might both lose their balance and fall over, but then Dirk secures an arm around him, flattening a hand against his back, his other hand leaning against the wall behind Todd, supporting the pair of them against it from at arm’s length. Todd slides his arms around his neck, pulling their bodies flush against each other as Dirk tentatively responds to the kiss. It's probably the most perfect reunion Todd could have come up with, and when he realizes this, he also realizes that this isn't something they do, normally.

He pulls away to see Dirk blinking at him a little owlishly, cheeks dusted with pink.

"Hi," Todd squeaks, unable to think of any possible way to backtrack from this.

"Hi." Dirk's voice is a little breathy. He's curved over Todd a bit to keep their weight against the wall and Todd's arms are still wrapped around his neck. None of these things are helping his thought processes.

Todd clears his throat. "'Missed you," he manages.

Dirk nods, still looking a little dazed.

"We should, um." Todd lets go of Dirk, much to his disappointment. He avoids Dirk's eyes, picking up the bat. "We should find the others and uh, keep, keep breaking out."

"Ah, yes, right, definitely, excellent observation."

Todd silently hands Dirk the bat so he can have a weapon, his face aflame, trying not to look him in the face.   


They're having a campfire out behind their safehouse, Bart and Ken roasting marshmallows, Amanda and the Rowdies yelling about something together, Farah taking a well earned nap on the ground beside it. Todd's sitting a little distanced from it, leaning against the van, close enough to feel the warmth but far enough that he can't make out what Amanda and the Rowdies are shouting about, although that could have more to do with how their voices are tangling together. 

Todd blinks, and suddenly Dirk is kneeling down in front of him. He's unzipped the jacket on his jumpsuit so he's just wearing a light gray tee shirt. Todd straightens a little, looking determinedly at his eyes because if he doesn't, he's going to be looking at Dirk's lips, and that's just... not going to be productive for anybody.

"Hey," he says awkwardly. "So, uh, about before-"

Dirk kisses him, resting his hand very lightly against his cheek. It's a quick kiss, and gentle, and manages to make his heart light up in his chest. When he pulls back, Todd knows he's grinning a little goofily at him. Dirk smiles softly in return.

"Missed you, too," Dirk says, backlit by the flickering fire, and _that_ , Todd thinks, is an _excellent_ image to have. 


	5. Awkward Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where everyone's tipsy, Todd's melodramatic, and Dirk wants another bite at the apple.

Todd has to change his name and flee the country. It’s the only option left to him.

Tonight he and Dirk and Farah and Amanda had all sat around on the floor of his apartment after finishing a case. The guy they’d found out was the murderer and parrot thief had smashed up Todd’s couch, so they’ve got no furniture to sit on. Farah’s lying with her head in Amanda’s lap with Amanda bent over her slightly, both a little giggly. They’ve had a little more to drink than Dirk and Todd, Amanda animatedly telling Farah a story, Farah reaching up to pull on Amanda’s hair every once in a while while it dangles over her. Todd can’t keep track of it, but Farah evidently can. Dirk’s sat close to him, his arm pressed up against Todd’s. It’s very warm. Todd’s not thinking about it. Not a lot, anyway. Not very much.

“Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?” Dirk whispers next to Todd. Todd laughs.

“No.”

“Really? There’s no special sibling radar thing where you know what’s going through her mind when she drunkenly rambles about something?”

Todd grins. “That’d be the most useless special sibling radar thing _ever_.”

“Useless to _you_ , maybe, clearly all I care about is how it’d be useful to me.”

Todd laughs again, grins, turns his head to give Dirk more shit properly, and _that’s_ when the name changing, country deserting event occurs. 

Because at the moment Todd looks at Dirk, he’s closer than he thought he was, and when he turns, his nose hits Dirk’s and their lips awkwardly mash against each other.

And _that_ would have been bad enough, something that would have made Todd laugh uncomfortably while curling up in a little ball inside and possibly dying, _that_ would have been bad enough. But it’s _worse_ , because Dirk starts _violently_ , flailing away from him so sharply that he’s suddenly a much farther distance from Todd than before, splayed out on the ground a little on his side. That coupled with the positively shocked expression on his face, like someone had smacked him with a dead fish of some kind, makes something in Todd’s chest curdle.

Amanda and Farah look up, blinking hazily at the two of them.

“Everything okay?” Farah slurs.

“Yep,” Todd answers, voice a little strangled and hollow even to his own ears.

“Yes,” Dirk adds. He rights himself so he’s back sitting upright, still a notable distance from Todd. “Yes, yeah, everything’s great, there was just this, this fly, landed on me, surprised me, that’s all, that’s it.”

Great. He’s a fly. Todd plasters on a smile and nods.

Dirk makes his excuses and leaves maybe five minutes later. Amanda and Farah follow suit, Todd making sure to call them a cab because they’re clearly too smashed even to walk home. After everyone’s gone, he lies on his floor and stares at the ceiling.

Todd would be a liar if he said he hadn't thought about kissing Dirk. A lot. A fair amount. Enough. A lot. And he _has_ been a liar before, but he’s trying to work on that, even with himself. So he can’t deny it. However, in even the shittier scenarios he’d pictured (which usually involved some yelling, some disgust), Dirk had never _literally thrashed away from him_ as a response, even if Todd had never pictured it happening by accident. This was the _worst possible way this could have happened._

Todd wishes he had a globe or a book of maps or something. He could throw a dart at it and pick out the new place he’s going to live in. He can probably come up with a new name for himself. He used to figure out band names and song names all the time. Name names can’t be that rough. Could he be a Chad? Probably not. Probably strike Chad off the list.

Something slams against the door. Todd blinks and looks over at it. There’s no other sound against it, until the bang happens again, and then turns into bang _ing_ , the knocking not really stopping.

Todd groans, getting to his feet and heading for the door. “I don’t care which of you forgot something, you need to tone down the volume or I’m not giving whatever it is-“

He opens the door. Dirk’s standing there, looking a little manic, hair a little wild. He’s still in the loose button up shirt and jeans he’d been wearing when they were all hanging out. A couple buttons on the shirt undone, like he’d been about to take it off for bed before he changed his mind.

“I want a do over,” he says. 

Todd gapes at him. “What?”

“You _surprised_ me. I was _entirely_ too startled and there was _just_ enough alcohol in my system that it caused me to-“ he pinwheels his arms. “To knock myself back a little. I wasn’t _prepared_. I’ve been _contemplating_ this and trying to, to make _plans_ on how to do this, and I think I gave you the wrong impression, because my reaction was more negative than I intended, it shouldn’t have been negative at _all_ , in fact, because I never wanted it to be, and I promise that it _shouldn’t_ be, if I got a _do over_ , so-“

Todd puts his hands on either side of Dirk’s face and kisses him. He tries to toe the line of pouring everything he has into the kiss while being gentle, both attempting to erase the first time and make the most of this one, in case it’s his last shot. Dirk’s hands hover before one falls on Todd’s hips, tentative for half a second before tightening and pulling him closer, the other winding into his hair. Todd only realizes he’s gotten nearer when there’s suddenly warmth pressed all up his front.

When Dirk’s lips are gone, Todd’s still feel a little tingly. He feels a little dreamy and wonders absently if Dirk would have any objection to him just sort of… burying his face in him. It sounds like it could be nice. Eventually it occurs to him that he should maybe open his eyes, and when he does. Dirk’s expression makes his chest constrict, far more soft and tender than Todd ever expected to see on him.

“Was that…” Todd wets his lips. Dirk’s eyes flick down to them. “Was that a good do over?”

Dirk clears his throat. “I’m not, er. I’m not actually sure. Perhaps… perhaps we need a do over of the do over? Just to be certain?”

Todd realizes he’s nodding vigorously. The realization doesn’t make him stop. “Yes. That’s. That’s a good idea. An _excellent_ idea. We should do that. Just to be safe.”

“Yes. Wouldn’t want to make any untimely decisions. Can’t be rash. We have to run another test.”

“ _Tests_ , maybe.”

“Yes, plural, _definitely_ plural.”

“We have to be thorough, can’t-“

Dirk swoops back in. Todd tries out putting a hand on his lower back. Just for the sake of the experiment. See if there’s a positive reaction.

Trials prove successful, initially.


	6. Against a Locker Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Dirk's wistful, Todd's cranky, and no glory days are relived.

“I can’t believe I’m back here,” Todd mutters as the two of them wander through the halls. They have flashlights in their pockets, (Dirk’s named them their Special Breaking In Flashlights) but they don’t need them yet, moonlight streaming through some of the windows and filtering it’s way into the corridors enough to see by. “I swore to _never_ come back here.”

Dirk’s looking around curiously, his hand loosely intertwined with Todd’s. “Not a big fan of high school?”

“I hated it.” Todd feels that familiar lurking feeling in the pit of his stomach, the one he carried through most of his schooling, but especially through the four years of high school. “I don’t know anyone who _liked_ it.”

“Not even Amanda? She’s more...” Dirk struggles and Todd waits, feeling a flicker of amusement as Dirk tries to politely phrase whatever he’s thinking of. “Sociable than you?”

“One day her freshman year Amanda sobbed from the minute she got home until a quarter to midnight and I only managed to get her to stop because I jammed with her for an hour and made a joke about burning the building down.”

“Well.” Dirk smiles. “Night’s still young.”

Todd can’t help but grin, looking away. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Dirk squeezes his hand. “Come on. Point out landmarks of interest to me.”

“Landmarks of interest.” Todd laughs. “Not a lot interesting happened here.”

“Come _onnnn_.” Dirk’s got that tone in his voice, the cajoling one he uses when he’s trying to lift Todd’s spirits. “Pick things.”

Todd’s lips twitch. “All right, well.” He gestures towards a set of lockers. “Jeannie Focault and Derek Wilde used to make out there every single morning and we all wanted to punch them in the face.” He points at a classroom. “Mr. Ambrose once jumped out of that window to prove something about science that I don’t remember, I didn’t really pay attention in that class, but he fell three stories and landed on his feet without breaking anything and became an instant legend.” He motions around vaguely. “And pretty much any hall you see I’ve been in a fight in and one out of the five lockers I’ve been pushed into.”

Dirk nods thoughtfully. “Fascinating.”

“Why are you so curious?”

Dirk sniffs. “I am a good boyfriend being interested in your life before me.”

“Yeaaaaaaaaah, but that’s not the only thing, is it?” Todd prides himself on being able to read Dirk most of the time at this point, and he’s pretty sure he’s right. Dirk’s face twitches, which seems to prove it.

“Come on. I told you about being pushed into a locker. Lockers. Plural.”

Dirk sighs a little. “I’m just... curious.” He looks at the doors to the library. “I never got to do this, you know. The whole... schooling thing, before Cambridge anyway.”

“How did you get into Cambridge if you didn’t go to school beforehand?”

Dirk shrugs. “CIA, possibly. I don’t know. I was supposed to go there, so I did.” He raps on one of the doors idly. “I always wanted to do all this. Even if I hadn’t enjoyed it, even if I’d hated it as much as you had, I’d have _done_ it, y’know? It’d have been something... normal. Something like other people had gone through.”

Dirk’s got that look on his face, the one that’s both longing and wistful. He used to do his best to cover that expression, once. Now he’s slowly started allowing himself to wear it around Todd, no longer desperately trying to cover all remnants of Blackwing fueled sadness. Todd watches him for a moment, then sighs quietly.

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

Todd lets go of Dirk’s hand and leans against the lockers. He motions. “Come here.”

“Why?”

He rolls his eyes. “Just come here.”

Dirk shuffles the few steps necessary, looking down at Todd slightly in vague bewilderment. Todd kisses him very gently before he grasps the lapels of Dirk’s yellow jacket and pulls him flush against him. He kisses him deeper this time, sliding one hand into his hair and the other against his waist just above the band of his pants, spreading it out against the shirt and pressing slightly. Dirk makes a slightly muffled surprised noise, holding onto Todd’s hip with one hand and the other splayed across his neck, thumb resting on Todd’s jaw.

When Todd pulls back, Dirk’s cheeks are pink, his hair satisfyingly mussed and sticking up in places. He blinks at Todd dazedly enough that he feels fairly pleased with himself.

“What-“ his voice is a little high when it comes out, making Todd grin as he clears his throat. “What was that for, exactly?”

“There you go.” Todd’s voice is a little raspy. “A very normal experience I had to deal with every day. One for your books. And it’s one I hated. Can’t believe I’ve had to engage in one I hated.”

Dirk beams so blindingly Todd’s face feels a little warm from the heat of it. “I could push you into a locker, if you like.”

“I didn’t enjoy that, either.”

“You didn’t seem to hate it too much this time.”

Todd moves his hands to Dirk’s waist. It only serves to make them both smile more. “Well. Maybe not this time.”

“Come on. I wanna see you jump out a window next.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Just a little one.”

“Nope.”

Dirk kisses his forehead. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did enough.”

Todd feels himself get a little redder. He releases Dirk’s waist and take his hand. “Come on. Let’s go find this not a zombie.”

Dirk squeezes his hand. “I’m telling you, there’s no reason it can’t be a zombie.”

“There’s _every_ reason it can’t be a zombie.” The two of them resume walking down the halls, bickering slightly as they go. 


End file.
